The two stood facing each other, motionless for a moment, in the center of the splintered stage. The floorboards creaked under the accumulated weight of previous exchanges. Dust hung in the air like a thin mist.
The spectators, still processing Daverion's words, murmured quietly. If that hadn't been everything… then what came before was only a prelude.
Enryu drew a deep breath. His chest rose slightly.
"I'll let you see my martial art," he said calmly. "But I hope you last long enough. It would be disappointing if it ended too soon."
Daverion didn't respond.
He moved.
His advance wasn't explosive at first, but heavy. His lead foot descended with purpose. The stage vibrated under the weight. It wasn't just speed—it was pressure. His body aligned as his shoulder dipped slightly forward, the force traveling from the ground up to his fist.
The strike went straight to the chest.
Enryu didn't dodge.
The impact landed with a dry crack. The wood under his feet groaned. His torso sank slightly backward… but he wasn't thrown like before. His heels gave way half a step at most. His back absorbed the strike, his knees bent just enough, his center lowering as if he had dropped the weight inside himself rather than receiving it.
Daverion was already moving to chain the next strike.
Then he felt it.
His hand trembled.
Not from fear.
From recoil.
It hadn't been a direct clash. Part of the force he had sent now returned through his own structure. Instinctively, he rotated his wrist, dropped his elbow, and channeled the weight into the ground. The wood beneath his foot sank, cracking in radial lines.
Still, something pushed him backward.
It wasn't a visible shove.
It was accumulation.
His heel lost grip for a fraction of a second, and that fraction was enough. His body slid backward over the damaged boards.
Enryu was already in motion.
He didn't run. He advanced with short, precise steps, keeping just the right distance to prevent Daverion from regaining posture. His fists came one after another—not wide, but compact, aimed at the axis of the torso.
Each impact found Daverion still retreating, forced to absorb it while trying to stabilize. The first compressed his sternum; the second made his ribs vibrate; the third stole half his breath. It wasn't sharp pain, but cumulative. His forearms began to feel heavy, as if the blood inside them had gained weight. His breathing faltered for a moment, forcing him to exhale through gritted teeth as he searched for a firm planting of his foot, not just intention.
The air vibrated with each contact.
Daverion planted his foot.
He forced the brake.
The next strike he received wouldn't push him back further. His knee bent, his hips lowered, and from that compressed stance, he launched a counterattack—short, direct, aimed between Enryu's left chest and shoulder.
The impact didn't throw him.
It twisted him.
Enryu's torso rotated from the force, his balance shifting forward. His back was exposed for just a moment.
Daverion didn't hesitate.
He pressed his foot against Enryu's back before the turn completed. His other foot pushed against the floor. It wasn't a big leap—just enough. His weight fell forward as his extended leg directed the fall.
Enryu's body crashed onto the stage.
The wood didn't hold.
A hole opened under the impact, splinters flying to the sides. Dust rose like a thick cloud.
Before the boards could settle, Daverion pressed harder with his foot on Enryu's buried back. The crater widened. The wood groaned under the strain.
From the stands, Elaryn brought a hand to her mouth.
"Is it over?" she asked, barely above a whisper.
Mael didn't look away.
"It won't end that easily."
At the bottom of the crater, Enryu's body lay still… but not rigid.
"Counterattack," he murmured.
It wasn't a shout.
It was activation.
Until now, each contact had been a fraction. Each impact he had received hadn't been fully absorbed. Part had descended, part had been redirected, part had remained stored within his structure as compressed tension.
Sixty percent.
Forty percent had been absorbed into his own body.
The rest… had traveled.
At that instant, he released it.
Daverion, still pressing with his foot, felt a faint tremor first. As if the ground itself vibrated beneath him.
Then his muscles tensed without permission.
The tremor wasn't visible at first.
It was internal.
Daverion felt it first in the forearm he had used to strike, then in his shoulder, then in the base of his back. As if every point of contact from before awakened simultaneously.
His knees gave slightly.
The foot still pressing on Enryu's back lost stability.
Then the invisible strike arrived.
It didn't come from the front. It didn't come from below.
It released within his own axis.
His torso shook violently. Air burst from his lungs with a dry sound, but didn't return immediately. His diaphragm contracted erratically, denying him a clean inhale. A spasm ran through the base of his spine, and for a fraction of a second, his peripheral vision blurred. His arms didn't open in surprise… they opened because his muscles refused to respond accurately. The accumulated pressure traveled through his body in reverse to the way he had attacked.
His heel left the wood.
A suspended instant.
Then he was expelled.
His body crossed the edge of the stage uncontrollably. It wasn't a jump. It was forced displacement. His back twisted slightly in the air as he tried to regain orientation. His fingers tensed, searching for a hold that wasn't there.
The wind slammed against his face.
The building wall approached too fast.
He tried to roll his shoulder to absorb the impact rather than his spine.
Impact.
The wood didn't explode immediately.
First it dented inward beneath his weight.
Then it cracked.
Then it gave.
The internal beams splintered in sequence. Thick splinters shot backward as his body tore through the first plane of the wall. The window glass vibrated before shattering. It didn't all break at once; one corner gave first, then the line fragmented in an irregular shower.
His body struck an interior structure. The impact wasn't uniform. Shoulder first, upper back second, then hips. The blow compressed the air he had barely recovered. A deep pang lodged under his left shoulder blade. His fingers tried to close, but strength didn't respond with usual speed. The second floor trembled. The lateral support wavered.
Part of the upper floor collapsed downward.
Dust.
Falling wood.
Fragments rolling across the floor.
And at the center, amidst the cracks, Enryu began to rise.
He shook the dust from his shoulders in a brief motion. Splinters fell from his hair. His breathing was steady.
"That's why I said it," his voice clear, effortless. "In pure martial arts, without cultivation… it's impossible to beat me."
He stepped out of the crater. The wood creaked under his weight, but held this time. He moved calmly toward the remains of the building where Daverion was rising.
"If we weren't suppressing our bases, I don't think I could beat you," he continued. "But limited to this… it's a different story. Tell me, how do you expect to win receiving both my strikes and part of your own at the same time?"
He smiled faintly.
"You fight two enemies. And one of them is yourself."
He laughed softly.
Among the rubble, a beam fell to the side. Daverion pushed wood fragments aside with his forearm and stood. His breathing wasn't irregular, but it wasn't light either. Each inhale demanded conscious expansion of his chest. There was stiffness in his shoulders, especially the left, where the impact had concentrated force. When he moved his arm to push a beam aside, the muscle responded a fraction slower than usual. It wasn't incapacity. It was a warning.
Dust descended from the half-collapsed second floor.
His eyes, once ash gray, began to shift to emerald green. It wasn't sudden. The color seeped outward from the center like ink spreading in water.
Enryu watched without pausing.
"Even though that gray mist slowed me," he said, "that's why you managed to pressure me."
He stopped.
Something didn't fit.
The gray mist that had clung to his skin was gone. In its place, a green haze surrounded Daverion. It wasn't thick, but it slightly distorted the air around him.
Daverion folded his hands behind his back. His posture was relaxed, but his weight was distributed precisely.
"I haven't met someone better than me in one aspect for a long time," he said with a faint smile. "That makes me happy. Without that, I couldn't activate this ability."
His eyes glowed.
"Envious Art of the Deep Reflection."
Something isn't right.
The thought hadn't even finished forming in Enryu's mind. His body was already moving.
He advanced until he was less than two steps away.
Daverion stood before him, slightly sideways. His weight rested more on the back leg. His hands remained behind his back.
Enryu said nothing more.
He took a short step with his left foot, placing it outside Daverion's lead foot. With that, he closed the opponent's right angle.
From there, he launched a direct strike toward the left side of Daverion's ribs. It wasn't wide. It came from the center, aiming to penetrate before Daverion could retreat.
Daverion reacted by pivoting on his right foot. His torso rotated backward as his left foot moved half a step back. That twist took his ribs out of the strike's line. Enryu's fist barely brushed cloth.
Enryu didn't stop.
As soon as his arm completed the motion, he brought it back to his chest and launched another strike, slightly higher this time, forcing Daverion to raise his arm to deflect.
Daverion didn't block hard. He placed his forearm in the path, redirecting the strike just enough while stepping back another pace. The motion wasn't abrupt. It only altered the impact's direction enough to prevent a clean hit.
They moved across the first floor of the damaged building. To their left stood a thick wooden support column.
Enryu noticed.
Instead of returning to the torso, he aimed directly at the arm deflecting him. A strike there would break the defense.
His fist shot straight toward Daverion's forearm.
Daverion pulled the arm back just before impact and used the other to guide the strike sideways. Enryu's fist didn't meet flesh. It met wood.
It struck the column.
The wood vibrated. A dry sound traveled across the floor. Tiny splinters jumped.
Enryu was already retracting his arm when Daverion decided to enter. His emerald eyes glowed, stretching the perception of time.
Enryu launched another strike, this time straight to the center of Daverion's chest.
He didn't retreat. At the last instant, when his arm wasn't fully extended, he stepped in and caught the fist with both hands.
The impact shook his arms, but instead of resisting backward, he let the force push him slightly forward.
He flexed his knees.
He jumped.
Not straight up, but leaning his chest over Enryu's arm. His weight shifted over the extended forearm, as if climbing it.
At the same time, he pushed his legs forcefully off the ground.
His feet lifted.
His hips rose past the shoulder line.
Enryu's arm ceased to be just a target; it became a support point. Daverion clung to the fist, using it as a pivot while his own momentum lifted the rest of his body.
First his torso became horizontal.
Then, as the leg drive continued, his body moved beyond that point.
His head dipped.
His legs continued rising.
Until he was fully inverted.
His head pointed toward the ground, less than half a meter from the pavement. His arms still held Enryu's fist. His legs pointed straight toward the ceiling.
It wasn't static balance. He wasn't "hand-standing" in the air. It was a dynamic moment.
His weight pressed down on Enryu's arm while the jump's momentum hadn't yet dissipated.
Enryu felt the vertical pull in his shoulder. His elbow bent slightly under the unexpected load. His structure was no longer aligned to push forward; it was now holding weight downward.
The sudden strain made his muscles scream in subtle, sharp pulses. His forearms quivered, shoulders stiffened, and his core braced instinctively. Every micro-adjustment burned, demanding concentration and effort just to remain steady.
That misalignment was the breaking point.
From this inverted position, Daverion contracted his abdomen and began rotating his hips backward, swinging his legs over his own back. The rotation wasn't wide; it was compact and controlled, using Enryu's arm as a pivot.
The rotation was underway.
He extended his leg at the exact moment his torso aligned with Enryu's back.
His right heel descended onto Enryu's upper back.
The strike impacted the upper back. It wasn't devastating to prevent a strong counter, but enough to push Enryu's torso forward a step.
At the moment of impact, Enryu rotated his shoulder and yanked his arm back with force.
As Daverion descended toward the ground after the rotation, Enryu threw a short strike toward his side.
The punch partially landed. It didn't hit cleanly because Daverion was already bending his knee to absorb the fall and twisting his torso to reduce the impact.
Daverion landed on a foot and a knee, then propelled himself sideways to regain distance.
Enryu rotated fully to face him again.
Both stood upright once more.
The distance between them was barely a step and a half.
The floor was littered with debris. Every placement required care.
And the green mist around Daverion pulsed with greater intensity.
They collided again.
This next clash didn't sound like the others.
It sounded like something giving way.
A deep crack ran through the beams supporting the second floor. The columns had already splintered from prior impacts; accumulated pressure had misaligned the entire structure.
Enryu threw another strike.
Daverion intercepted mid-chain, barely touching the forearm and redirecting the axis just enough to prevent the force from traveling cleanly.
Residual impact didn't go into the body.
It went into the building.
Vibrations raced up the walls.
Joints creaked.
The entire second floor collapsed.
The planks fell like thick rain. Railings shattered midair. Torn staircases spun before crashing to the ground. The roar echoed throughout the hall, and the tremor was stronger than before, forcing several spectators to grip their seats.
The building couldn't hold anymore.
Daverion and Enryu didn't wait for the dust to settle.
They moved almost simultaneously, navigating the wreckage, jumping over fallen beams and wood fragments. Their steps were short, measured, avoiding unstable areas.
They retreated toward the central ring.
The wooden plane where it all began.
Still standing, though cracked and sunken in the center.
They stopped several meters apart.
Standing.
Silence.
The air was thick with dust and the smell of broken wood.
Daverion breathed in a controlled rhythm, though the burn in his forearms and core lingered. His green eyes remained locked on Enryu.
He was still analyzing.
Each exchange revealed more.
Interfering at the end doesn't seem ideal. Only a slight change occurs in the counterattack.
It's better to interfere midway, he murmured.
Enryu was also breathing with effort, but not from pure exhaustion.
It was bewilderment.
The damage he felt didn't match the volume of blows taken. His body still hummed with lingering soreness, shoulders tight, forearms quivering slightly. Every micro-muscle remembered the strain.
He had measured his performance.
Always had.
His effective counter, the one that transmitted force without structural loss, usually remained around sixty percent under pressure.
Now it wasn't.
It had dropped.
Fifty-five.
Not a dramatic fall.
Five percent.
But at his level, that difference was unacceptable.
And it had never happened.
Never.
He lifted his gaze.
He met Daverion's green eyes.
Something in them wasn't simple focus.
It wasn't anger.
It wasn't arrogance.
It was… absorption.
Like he was taking something.
Enryu finally spoke, voice deep but steady.
"Those green eyes… right?"
Dust still floated between them.
"What are they?"
Daverion didn't look away.
His breathing had stabilized.
"One of the seven deadly sins."
The silence grew heavier.
"Envy."
The hall creaked softly under the weight of the debris.
And both tensed once more.
Because the fight wasn't over yet.
Even in this tense pause, Enryu's body hummed with lingering fatigue, shoulders stiff, forearms trembling slightly. Every micro-muscle remembered the strain. His mind raced, calculating, sensing a subtle shift. The green glow in Daverion's eyes pressed not just on his focus, but on his nerves, making each heartbeat and breath feel heavier.